


Moonbeam

by nat (MoastedRarshmallow)



Category: Moonlight (2016)
Genre: Black Character(s), Established Relationship, Inner Dialogue, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Relationship Discussions, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 04:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoastedRarshmallow/pseuds/nat
Summary: Chiron's been Little, he's been Black, but he's never been in love. He's never been Moonbeam, not until now.





	Moonbeam

**Author's Note:**

> i rewatched moonlight recently and fell in love with it all over again. i wrote this while watching the director's cut and crying furiously. also while wondering what happens next. anyway they love each other so fucking much
> 
> rated for language lol

“G’morning, Moonbeam.”

 Chiron opens his eyes to Kevin’s naked ass; the sight of him pulling on blue jeans. He blinks, rubs his eyes, and takes a second to remember where he’s at. It’s like this every morning, even after three months. The disbelief that he’s really here, really with Kevin; that this isn’t some good dream or trick of the light sticks with Chiron, especially in the early morning hours.

 “Moonbeam?” he asks. “I thought I was Black.”

 Kevin snorts. “We both Black, ain’t we? I think Moonbeam fits you better.”

 He says it without a hint of sarcasm, which makes Chiron believe that it does fit him better. That’s the way Kev was, he could spin anything and make you believe it with your whole heart. He could be a lawyer, Chiron thinks, if Black people had a better track record with the law. Not that he was a crook like them lawyers, just that he could make you believe the tallest tale with a tilt of his head and a blink of those big brown eyes.

 “What’chu thinking about, Chiron?” Kevin asks. He pulls a wifebeater over his head, and shimmies down into it.

 It was interesting watching another person go through the motions, to Chiron, especially because of how separate from people he’d made himself over the years. It was the threat of violence (because even thought Juan had told him he was no faggot, Chiron knew he was) that made him take a step back; but also, getting close hurt. He squirreled himself away as to not hurt, but here he was, with this man that could break his heart in an instant. Irony, he guessed, even though he was shaky on the meaning of the word.

 “Lawyers,” he says, because how are you supposed to explain that in full?

 “You in some kind of trouble?” Kev asks. It's only been a few months, and for all Kevin knows, Chiron's past could be following him around. The genuine worry in his eyes makes Chiron melt.

 “Nah,” Chiron says. “Just thinkin’.”

 “Well, stop it,” Kevin replies. He throws a bundle of clothes at Chiron, hitting him square in the chest. “We’re goin out, and I don’t need you givin yourself a head injury.”  

 “Going out where?” Chiron asks. He pulls himself out of bed to get dressed, and notices Kevin staring.

 That was another thing. He’d never met someone as open about sex as Kevin was. Even his own momma, with all her late-night flings, would lie about it. _Just some friends of mine_ , she would say, even if Chiron had heard them through the walls the night before.

 Kevin, though, he’d straight up ask for it. It made Chiron bristle the first couple times, but Kevin was gentle, he was patient. Eventually, Chiron had come to expect it; to the point where they were fucking every night. He was glad there were minimal neighbors around because, Jesus H., being touched after a nearly 10-year celibacy? Wheew.

 “Out,” Kevin replies. He’s suddenly up close, with his hands on Chiron’s face. He smells like early-morning, like sleep, and Chiron could drown in him. Kevin kisses him, and it’s sweet; there’s no urgency behind it. Chiron’s not used to that, either, the kisses and touches and looks so sweet he can feel the cavities forming in the back of his mouth, where Kev’s tongue touches his teeth.

 It’s something Chiron never thought he’d enjoy; the lack of personal space. Kevin was always touching, feeling, being near. When they watched TV, Kevin would worm into Chiron’s lap. Making dinner, or any meal, there was a lot of hand-holding and kiss-stealing. Not that Chiron had a real rolodex of romantic encounters to compare this to, but, it felt unique. A little treasure all their own.

  He puts on whatever Kev threw at him, not even caring that the shirt didn’t belong to him. He didn’t have a lot of money to buy new clothes, especially since he’d sworn off the streets, but Kevin didn’t care. Stuff was just stuff, to him, and that was refreshing to Chiron. Stuff meant power, in the streets; stuff was how you showed you knew your shit. Stuff was the goal. Here, it meant next to nothing, and he was glad, because he had next to nothing to offer.

 Besides himself, and he still wasn’t quite sure what Kevin saw in that.

 “C’mon,” Kev says. He’s standing near the doorway, hands in his pockets; watching Chiron sift through his thoughts. He knew, by now, to give the other man space to sort it out for himself. If it was something that hurt, they’d talk about it.

 Chiron follows Kevin out the door.

  He expects Kevin to fish out his keys, pull the car around, but he doesn’t. Kev smiles up at Chiron.

 “Big man afraid of a little walkin’?” he asks, jabbing Chiron in the beginnings of a gut, which Kevin’s own cooking was responsible for. _Can’t cook with no oil,_ Kev liked to say. _Either eat the butter, or don’t eat._

“Nah, nah. It’s just hot, y’know?” Chiron offers. Kevin shakes his head.

 “A few years away from the Florida heat and you went soft on me?” He makes a frustrated sound, but he’s grinning; giddy like a teenager. “You weak, man.”

  “You weren’t sayin that shit last night,” Chiron says.

Kevin gives him a look, and for a second Chiron’s heart stops. He never knows how far is too far, and once he got to talking with Kev, he couldn't get to stopping.

 Kev laughs, a bright, high pitched belly-laugh, and Chiron's shoulders relax. Then, he gets going too. They’re doubled over on each other, gasping for breath. Kevin wipes at his eyes.

 “You always been the funny one,” he says, still laughing.

 

 “You jus’ expect me to trust you?”

 “Shut the hell up, I _know_ you trust me. Close your goddamned eyes before I close ‘em for you.”

 Chiron closes his eyes. Going “out” meant going to the beach, which wasn’t more than a five-minute walk from Kev’s place. He does trust Kevin, of course, but going blindly into the beach, where people throw glass bottles and let they dogs dookie wherever? Not his idea of a good time.

 Kevin leads him by the elbow onto the sand. He can smell the ocean, the brine, and he feels a peace wash over him. When things got tough, the water was always reliable, always there. He found a home in the ocean, more home than his momma ever cared to give him. He can hear his childhood – the good parts, only – in the waves as they crash up on the beach.

 “A’ight, open your eyes,” Kev says, sounding excited.

 He does. There’s a little blanket, not much more than a towel, spread out under a large palm tree. He’s never seen this area of the beach before, it’s more shady and secluded. It’s quiet, even though it’s the middle of June and there should be youngins hopping around.

 There’s a wine bottle stuck in the sand.

 “A picnic?” Chiron says.

 Kevin shrugs. “No food, but yeah, sorta.”

  He plunks himself down on the blanket towel, and Chiron doesn’t have much choice but to follow. Like he’d want to be anywhere else, anyway.

 Kev corks the wine. He holds it out to Chiron, who was busy looking for cups; there are none. Kevin had forgotten them in his rush to get it together in time.

 “You gonna make me drink all this?” he asks, mostly playing.

 “’Course not, Moonbeam. You gonna be drunk after two sips, anyway. I just forgot the damn cups.”

 Chiron drinks the wine. They pass it back and forth, staring at the ocean. It’s barely noon, and the sun is more warm than hot. Chiron closes his eyes. He’s felt more at peace in these past few months than the last few years; maybe not in his whole life. There’s nothing to run from anymore, nothing to hide. He’s content.

 “You think we’ll get married, someday?” Kev asks, so out of the blue it makes Chiron splutter.

  He wipes at the wine that’s dribbled down his chin. “It’s legal, now, right?”

 “Sure is.”

 “Why not, then? Even if we don’t, you know we’ll be doin this same shit ‘til we croak.”

 Kevin smiles. “I didn’t come out here to propose, y’know, but I’m glad you’re into it.”

 Chiron sips at the wine again, looking around at the peaceful, romantic setting Kev had made, just for them. He thinks about these months, the best months of his life so far, and all the compassion and love Kev had given him. He gave it all up for Kevin, too, gave up all the cred spent his young adulthood running after. He gave it up without a second thought, and he’s had no regrets so far.

 He realizes, even if Kev hadn’t said anything, they’d end up married. Maybe not by law, but who gives a shit about the law?  For the first time in his life, he feels like the person he’d give it all for would give it all right back.

 He takes Kevin’s hand in his, working smooth circles into his flesh. When Kevin looks up, he shrugs.

  “I’m sure you ain’t mean to, man. I’m sure you ain’t mean to, but I’m glad, too.”


End file.
